Listening to every heart
Siddown already, serenity....
Jo? Mission accomplished...so, I'm eager to meet the new one....
My junior year chemistry teacher, Mr. Ballou, was exceptional, as well. On the scale of mankind to mountains, he was a Rocky Mountain high – such a tall, dark haired man. Huge hands! But so very gentle in demeanor, and he always bent at the podium as he spoke, “coming down to earth”, in a manner of speaking.
You see, I wanted desperately to be a veterinarian, and the previous summer I took a smash hard six week biology course [you could stay on track more in biology during the summer…and the ratio was hilarious – one boy for every four girls….] and did fairly well, learning to bisect and dissect “things” [someone is probably eating breakfast, so I won’t say what], and I walked away with a fairly decent B+. But my algebra and geometry classes were what were giving me fits, and I had to improve there, before taking chemistry, so Mr. Ballou, who taught both the maths and chemistry…was exceptionally generous with his time in trying to help the young lady that would…
Ever wish you could give someone back his life?
That poor man would stay after school, going over and over the equations and tables and charts and problems, until he would fairly sing, “By George, I think she’s got it!”
Only, I would seem to have lost it by the very next morning’s test.
I needed to wear Velcro, to have the formulas stick to me.
And I don’t recall it being invented back then.
That poor man gave me several afternoons of his life, trying to make sure I could reach my dream.
I’m still unredeemable in higher math – regular figures, no problem. And I’ve an eye for shooting pool, so geometry did leave a little behind…LOL…
But Mr. Ballou was a gentle person, and an example of those teachers who go out of their way for a child’s dream.